


Aftermath

by lostsometime



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode 50, Episode Tag, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 09:20:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17619719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostsometime/pseuds/lostsometime
Summary: Caleb's reaction in the wake of Nott's close call.





	Aftermath

He couldn’t bring himself to go to her.  He _wanted_ to – or maybe he just wanted to want to.  His better impulses, the very best parts of him, were screaming at him to save her, somehow, do _something_.  And the baser, more cowardly parts of him – the parts he knows, intimately, the parts that are sometimes so strong they’re all he can see, were screaming that he did his best, that there was no more to be done, that he should get back into the tunnel where it was safe.  And so, ultimately, he couldn’t go to her, but neither could he bring himself to retreat.  He just stood _(useless, useless)_ , watching, watching her burn like every nightmare he’s had for months now.  Beauregard saved her.  Just one more thing he owes to her.  He adds it to the list, though already he knows it’s more than he can ever pay.

Beau keeps carrying her, once they’re in the tunnel.  She’s awake, now, and no longer seems in danger of dying, but her burns are bad enough that they can move faster if she doesn’t try to walk on her own.

He misses his cat.

Once they feel secure, they stop to rest.  Caleb puts the dome up.  Feels a little better, being able to do something tangibly useful to keep them all safe _(sure, now)_.  Caduceus takes a few minutes to heal them all up and soon Nott is scooting over to him to settle in.  He can’t speak to her.  All his words burned up back there, flaked to ash like the ragged edges of her singed clothes.  She still smells like burnt hair and smoke.  He scoops her up anyway.

Nott makes a small noise of surprise, but doesn’t seem to be in pain.  He just – holds her, wordlessly, cradled against him like a child.  His face presses into her cloak.  He’s shaking. 

“Oh,” she murmurs, “Hey, we’re okay.  We’re okay.”  One of her hands comes up to card gently through his hair.  She settles into a rhythm and he lets himself go away for a little while, in his head.  When he comes back, he finds that Nott has braided several small, wilting flowers into his hair.  For protection.  She smiles when she sees clarity come back into his eyes.  “Hey.  I’m gonna get some sleep, okay?”

He nods.  He still doesn’t have any words.  She tucks her head up under his chin and curls up against him, and he holds her and just – breathes.

Just breathes.


End file.
